Belladonna
by NarcissisticViolet
Summary: "I love you the way a drowning man loves air. And it would destroy me to have you just a little." Violet Harmon is a photographer with quirky inclinations. Tate Langdon is psychotic, a stalker obsessed with her ever since Art College. Dark Fiction/ AU.


**Title: **Belladonna  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I do not own American Horror Story, only this fan-fiction.

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><p><strong>Warnings:<strong> Rated M for adult themes, descriptions of abuse, drugs use, dub-con and psychologically disturbing content; may include scenes not to your liking.

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><p><em>bel·la·don·na  translation: beautiful woman_

_ - Violet -_

__"I love you the way a drowning man loves air. And it would destroy me to have you just a little."__

New York is a city built up from dust. Literally.

I love it so much it makes me wanna jump off the 103-story of the Empire State Building.

Sometimes I feel suicidal like that, when I mop my studio apartment in Midtown Manhattan, trying to sweep away the tiniest dust particles scattered all over my photography equipment and my furniture, gyrating in the morning light, streaming through the window panes.

I'm not a germaphobe, just an ordinary girl with common asthma disease, ratty cardigans, floral dresses, caramel chest-long hair and deep-seated contempt for my parents.

As a little girl , I stayed mostly inside our family house in Boston while the others were playing outside. I was feeling too awkward with carrying around an inhaler instead of the toys the other kids were having a blast with.

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><p>As a teenager in high school, I never gathered at parties with my classmates or joined any clubs. My asthma has become my jailer.<p>

Never went on dates, not that they didn't try. Well, that would have been exciting.

"Can I kiss you, Violet?"

"Let me just breathe in a little from this sucker of an inhalant."

"Sure. Ventolin breath is so hot."

_Yeah, I thought so, too._

A couple of years later, when I had become fed up with being the rare bird, I finally left the family nest. The mother bird was horrified.

Maybe she seriously thought I was going to spend my life under a lid but I had a dream I needed to pursue.

I mean asthma is not as bad, but it makes you feel weird and lonely since I couldn't manage to spend much time outdoors with my weirdness around others, I became addicted to taking pictures of everything random I could find around the house from the vases to the wizened flowers in them and my freshly painted bedroom walls.

Photography became my passion, I wanted to study art so I left for New York City.

My family wasn't poor, but they wasn't very rich either. My father was a therapist and my mom was your regular housewife. He cheated on her and she took it without ever saying a word.

_How pathetic was that?_

I really wanted to get away from both of them. I also had to find a job to support myself throughout Art School.

Soon enough, I started posing nude for a non prominent sculpturist.

At first I was repulsed by the idea, but I was of legal age and working at some cafeteria wouldn't allow me to buy the necessary photography accessories while struggling to make ends.

Also his studio was conveniently close enough to my college and to where I lived, so it wouldn't mess with my schooling schedule and I won't be skipping classes to go to work.

He said I had the ideal proportions with my small frame and thin, long legs. The perfect torso model.

After two weeks of visiting his studio we felt mutual attraction towards each other.

It wasn't love and it wasn't infatuation either.

It was just that kind of tension, tangible physicality you couldn't resist.

The artist, Alexander, was fit, tall, dark and handsome enough.

One day he just left his piece of work and joined me on the sheets where I was sitting posing nude for him.

His fingers were covered in clay when he touched my lips and the roughness of his fingertips caused me a rush of excitement. It started with the hardening of my nipples. I was eighteen. It was about time for me to want to lose my virginity. Most of the girls I knew had lost theirs at the age of sixteen.

So I grabbed the nape of his head when he kissed me and allowed him to lay me down on the clay -smudged sheets and let him penetrate me.

An hour later I left his studio and never returned although I needed every cent.

It wasn't because of him, he was perfect in taking my virginity, gentle and caring.

It was me.

I felt repulsed with myself. Instead of falling madly, deeply in love with some nice boy my age and giving in to him I had lost my virginity to some random older guy because I needed to recover for all the things I have missed in my life.

So much for romantics, Violet.

At least the lack of emotion in my first sexual intercourse didn't cause me the shortness of breath or any other inconvenience that would make me even more embarrassed.

Long story short, I had to agree and take up the job of a waitress since I left Alex in the middle of his masterpiece and he didn't cut my last checks.

I managed to finish Art College and soon I started making small photography exhibitions of my own. Anything from flowers, rusty nails, vases, a few artifacts. I just loved to snap shots. My mother was so proud of me. Finally.

I even rented a studio of my own.

Until one day everything went down the drain I was kidnapped at a parking lot, drugged beforehand because I had a severe asthma attack when he assaulted me and the usual inhaling of ventolin wouldn't help me.

But what terrified me most was that he obviously knew how to take advantage of my disease and disarm me.

So a few hours later when I woke up at this unknown place, I couldn't help but wonder who the fuck he was.

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><p><em>- 2 -<em>

_"He struggled with himself, too. I saw it - I heard it. I saw the inconceivable mystery of a soul that knew no restraint, no faith, and no fear, yet struggling blindly with itself." ― Joseph Conrad, "Heart of Darkness"_

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><p>Beams of sunlight hit her face as she fluttered her eyes open, vision blurry, obstructing her eying the surroundings.<p>

Violet sat up supposedly in bed , blinking a few times but surroundings still didn't come to focus. I The only thing she made were shadows.

She wasn't in a dark, cold basement with a loop around her neck, or arms and legs tied behind her back into a pig loop.

She wasn't locked in some closet or beaten to death.

She wasn't missing a finger or a limb, at least she didn't feel like it.

She was whole, her breathing steady, unobstructed and overall she was feeling really comfortable.

Except for that pulsating toothache.

Violet touched her cheek rubbing with a soothing manner the throbbing pain in her jaw, trying to remember what happened and how did she get in here.

She overstrained her vision once more in struggling attempt to eye the room.

.

"Your pupils are dilated. It's the effect of the 's a toxic drug that afflicts the nervous system.

The funny thing is it is also used as a treatment for airway obstruction.", She heard a boyish chuckle. "I've read about it in some photography forums, you know...''', Violet heard footsteps approaching bringing the voice closer, "It was used as a fashion drug to make women prettier, dilating their pupils, it was considered beautiful," The bed shifted as someone sat at the bed side.

"The effect, it'll pass within a couple of hours, "

She made out the silhouette he had moved closer, she was feeling his breath on her face. A stream of light coming from the window behind him made his shape seem darker.

" I'm sorry about that, too. I had to knock you out, you started screaming, and you scratched my face. Wow, you really fight to death, don't you? I misread you. I thought that belladonna was enough for you to paralyze. I was wrong, you are stronger than I thought , Violet."

.

"Here's some ice for that," Violet felt a bag of ice pressed to my cheek and yelped as I jolted away from him.

"STAY AWAY FROM ME!"

"I'm sorry, Violet. So sorry. I really didn't mean to hurt you in any kind of way," He said and his hands pressed the bag of ice onto her face again, he was cupping her jaw with his free hand.

She cringed underneath the stranger's touch but the ice helped with subsiding her pain.

" You must be feeling better, Violet."

She was quaking with the cold touch of his hands, fear overcoming her.

_Could that be Alex? Was he mad at her that she didn't return to his studio?_

_Some wicked game of his?_

Although Violet felt her heart plummet, she tried to stay play it cool on the surface.

She felt that if she panicked too much,she was going to end badly somehow.

_Breathe, Violet!_

_One...two...three..four..._

Four was too late. She felt the surge of my panic ensue asthma attack hitting her chest. She started gasping her lungs blocking the air she was trying to breathe n.

"No, no, no! I'm so stupid! Why did I do this to you, I didn't mean to hurt you, please don't be scared. Just relax, OK?", She heard him murmur closer to her ear pair of strong arms wrapped around her shoulders. Then an inhaler was driven in her mouth," Breathe!"

Violet inhaled a couple of times and Ventolin unfolded her lungs.

"Are you better now?", The faceless voice asked politely.

She nodded and felt the streaks of tears rolling down her cheeks when someone pulled her into a hug.

She wanted to fight him off like a wild cat but she felt so terrified with the result she just let him press her into his chest, inhaling musk.

He was someone not too tall. She could tell by the way his chin rested on the top of her head as he started rubbing circles on her back a comforting gesture.

That was definitely not Alexander. He was much taller than that.

'It's OK, it's OK,"She heard words fed into her ear and anger overtook her.

Violet squirmed to break free from his embrace and slapped the air at where supposedly his face was.

Since she really couldn't see, she bumped her foot into a piece of furniture while trying to lunge at him and stumbled on the floor.

"Stay away, from me do you hear me! Who are you, what on earth do you think you're doing? Let me out of here!"

Violet screamed, raging in an emotional outburst resulting from her anger and her helpless disposition.

She felt him crouch to the floor picking her up but she pushed his hands away this time,

"Stop it! I can get up on my own!"

_"Who are you?_" , She felt like asking for a millionth sanity slipping from her grip, , "Why are you doing this to me? I'm not rich, you really wouldn't get that much of a ransom for me."

Surprisingly, he laughed, a melodic sound.

"I don't want any money, though I'm not that rich either."

"Then what is it that you want? Are you someone perverted, are you going to fuck me? Is that why...why you want to keep me in here?", Violet's voice cracked and she twitched in repulsion, imagining thousands of hideous scenarios.

"Well, that will happen when the time is right, I guess," The voice was soft, " And only if you want me to. But not now...Although.."

He rubbed his thumb along the seam of her lips and she felt like vomiting anxiety had overtook again.

"You are so beautiful. I have never seen anyone like you. But as I told you, I'm not going to do anything to hurt you. I swear I wouldn't. You know who I am, Violet. I think I should leave you now and come back later when you feeling better."

_Better? He must be kidding._

"Wait you didn't tell me ..."

But she couldn't finish, his steps left the room, locking the door behind his back.

* * *

><p>A couple of hours later she must've been fallen asleep.<p>

Terrible nightmares of her mother making her take pictures of her father while he was cheating.

Violet sprung awake cold sweat dripping from her forehead.

.

The door creaked open and someone entered.

His features slowly came to focus, and he was sitting at her bedside again," Feeling better, aren't you? I bet you can see me now. Here, drink this."

He handed her a glass of water which she eyed thirstily.

"Are you going to drug me again?"

Violet wanted to drink it badly her mouth felt dry and lifeless.

"No, I swear, " He laughed.

She took the glass from him and started sipping.

"You recognize me now?"

Violet searched his face but nothing from his features seemed too familiar.

"No."

"See, that's why I had to do this. You never really gave me a chance in remembering who I was."

She saw a playful smirk on his lips.

"I know you?", She asked dubiously.

He sighed.

"Well, you didn't even notice me sometimes, but I wished you have. Because I've watched you all the time, Violet. I've been thinking about you, a lot. I could never forget someone as pretty as you," He stared into her eyes and she felt like screaming and punching him in the throat.

"I even asked you out but you said no. I attended photography classes with you," He said curtly, his eyes were so dark while he started at her.

_Dirty blonde hair, black eyes, dimples delving into his cheeks._

"Tate Langdon?"

"You did remember me! That's good, a very good basis for a relationship.", He gave her that insane smile again.

"A relationship?",Violet really felt like losing it and when she did, she lost it badly.

"Yes. See, I think you and I were meant for each other.I'm in love with you, Violet."

"My God, he is psychotic," She muttered under her breath, then started screaming with all the strength left in my body, "HELP! HELP ME, HE IS INSANE!",

Violet leapt out of bed and ran for the window.

"Don't bother, the window is nailed," Tate informed her.

She realized that her vision was clear as day now. Looking around she recognized the surroundings of her own bedroom.

"I told you I didn't mean to hurt you.", He proceeded, " You are safe, you are at home."

"But why are you keeping me hostage into my home? Answer me!", She yelled st him, tears threatening to spill.

"Because I'm going to make you fall in love with me."

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><p>He stood up from the bed and got closer to her, her eyes wide with shock, mouth watched him in slow motion as he leaned and planted a butterfly like wet kisses on her lips and jawline mumbling ,"Tasty."<p>

Violet couldn't even scream all pronunciation has left her body.

"Sorry, I just couldn't resist you," He smiled awkwardly, " I know I left you with no dinner tonight, but your stomach just wouldn't take the food anyways, still fighting off the effects of belladonna. But tomorrow I'm going to make it up to you with a splendid breakfast."

Violet wanted to tell him where to stick his breakfast so much and don't even bother showing his face in the morning but then i t hit her, "How

d-did...". She stammered.

"..did I drug you?", Tate finished, "Well, I have my ways. Good night, Violet."

And she watched him as he walked over to the door with a mischievous grin dancing on his lips.

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><p><em>- 3 -<em>

_**2 a.m.**_

I managed to sleep for barely two hours during the night. I was tossing and turning and thinking my possibilities of escape.

My father, like the therapist he was, has always told me that there was a way out even from the hardest situations.

I got up from bed and started pacing across the dark bedroom. I didn't want to turn the night light on so he would know I was awake.

I couldn't fucking believe this! I was a prisoner in my own apartment on the 14th floor in Midtown Manhattan. How did that happen?

Could I call somebody for help, but who? I was in my pajamas and he had obviously taken my phone, since I couldn't find it anywhere around the room.

Nobody heard when I screamed. And the worst thing was that nobody really visited me here. My mom and dad never came. I went back home to visit them on Thanksgiving and Christmas. I didn't have any friends. My neighbor was a retired Hollywood director, who spent this time of the year at his Beverly Hills house grounds.

When I had meetings related to photography exhibitions they were always held at the studio I have rented. Or at some cafe. I didn't really like to invite people home, I hate my privacy being invaded.

Tate had planned this good, this was well thought out.

So much for help. One option left.

The only one who could help me was myself. I went for the window, not that it was of any use at that height but had to start somewhere.I yanked the drape away and saw it was sealed by means of solid plank. Fuck this.

Oh, my God! I was as dead as a door nail. I was twenty-one, finally getting the strength to handle things on my own. But now all of this was going downhill. This was how my life was going to end.

I dragged my legs back to my huge bed and fell on it caught up in thinking feverishly. Two words stuck in my head.

Game over.

No, no, no this couldn't be it. I should think of something, I'm not that girl, I'm not. Well maybe I was a bit antisocial and weird but I wasn't going to let my life be ruined by a psychopath.

At least I had a bathroom and my clothes along with my other stuff, too.

The bathroom. I leaped from the bed and rushed inside, searching through the vanity. Shit.

The bathroom mirror was gone.

He was smart. I gave him that.

No razors, no tweezers, no glasses.

Nor anything else I could use to harm him or myself with.

Even the shower curtain was missing.

I spent the better part of the night gnawing on my lower lip mulling my choices over. And I finally came up with something.

A thought that could safe my life in the morning. Little did I know it would all go terribly wrong.

_**9.00 a.m.**_

Tate unlocked the door and saw Violet still sleeping. He smiled. He knew what he was doing was wrong but he will make her understand.

He wasn't hurting her, he never wanted that. But Violet, she would understand eventually. She was the purpose of his life ever since he saw her.

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><p>The first day in art college. She was sitting three rows across from him but she had captured his eyes immediately. Although her clothes were the casual blue jeans, sweatshirt and a pair of the simplest sneakers, he knew there was nothing simple about her.<p>

Her hair, light caramel strands, her lips were full on plump and red, with the tiniest beauty mark in the upper left corner and her eyes were the most extraordinary thing about her. As to he couldn't define a color for them. They were the kind of hazel, that seemed brown in a dark room but very green in the sunlight. He didn't remember what brought him to this art college anymore and he didn't care. He only knew he wanted to see her. Every single day.

He just sat there and watched her - sitting, writing, smiling, breathing.

A slip of her hand, a flip of her hair, for it was too long and always got in the way. Sometimes he didn't even bother listening to the instructor. Because she was there and that was all that mattered.

As he caught her gaze during one of the lectures on optics, he felt his heart-pace quicken to new exciting levels. She had become the light in the eternal darkness of his life.

One day while he was eavesdropping the girl converse with the teacher he picked up her name. Violet. How appropriately pretty.

After two weeks of constant eye - stalking,he decided to do something. He waited outside the college for her to make her exit.

And there she was.

"Hi."

She snapped her head to him, "Hello, can I help you?"

"Violet, right? I'm Tate," He smiled.

She was staring now at him, electrifying eye contact. Her pale complexion looked so thin in the early afternoon sunlight.

"Well, I didn't mean to impose, it's just that..", Tate looked nervously away and rubbed his sweaty palm into his jean clad leg.

"I don't really know anybody here, and you seemed nice. I was wondering if you would just like to take a walk with me to college some morning and grab some coffee before the lectures?"

There he said it. It wasn't that awful but his heart was throbbing as if he has been running the entire distance of the Boston's marathon.

And Tate knew exactly how hard that was. He loved running track. Sports had kept him in good shape and in a way, sane.

Violet stared at him a few moments, then she replied in a polite manner,

"Well," She licked her lip, and boy , didn't he notice that, " I live far away from Art College I don't really have the time for that, I need to make a heap of photos for my assignment within a month, so I don't think that is going to happen. Excuse me, but I have to go now."

She cut him off.

"Oh, no problem, well sorry for bothering you and have fun...", Tate watched as Violet walked away and got on the bus, not even listening to his apologies, ''.. with your pictures.", He finished to himself.

Why did she do that? Did he say something wrong?

Or was it that she just didn't like his appearance. But then again that couldn't be it.

He knew he looked good. Many girls were after him. Most of the girls here were after him but he didn't care.

He knew also that Violet didn't have a boyfriend.

Tate had broken up with his high-school girlfriend and wasn't interested in girls for a while. Until now.

Tate tried to approach Violet and talk to her a couple of times more but she either was in a hurry or wasn't really interested in what he got to say to her. Which was a lot. For starters, he wanted to tell her that she was beautiful and not to be so embarrassed whenever she needed to use her inhaler in public.

He followed her around all the time. He knew where she lived and when she went to bed. He watched her drinking the same coffee he drank every morning, eating the same goddamn sandwich at lunch break he liked since he was eight and read the same bird books she read before he even knew her. And she always did these things alone. She was just like him, and he had to make her see that.

Violet used to take strolls in the park near her apartment in the late afternoons and take random pictures.

She also went to the same coffeehouse after that and grabbed the same chocolate late every day.

So when the opportunity popped up he took it.

He had come across the use of belladonna randomly reading about opium. It was used as a treatment drug and so it was sold in drug stores.

It caused dizziness, drowsiness and blurred vision. Enough for his purposes.

He just had to wait. And when she left her coffee on the table and went for the bathroom he just slipped the belladonna tincture into it and followed her to her car.

**_9:05 a.m._**

"Good morning".

Violet jolted awake to Tate's voice. His smiling face staring at her.

"Breakfast, as promised toast, eggs and ham. Wait do you like that? I obviously don't know everything about you but it's the first time I'm having breakfast with you. And that's all I found in your fridge. Oh, and coffee, of course."

Violet didn't say anything as she sat up in bed and looked at the platter Tate placed upon her lap.

"Well, dig in," He smiled again and she hated to admit that he was indeed attractive. She wondered how she could have forgotten him.

Then Violet saw the fork. It was everything she hoped for. The thought she fell asleep with.

A split second passed between her taking the fork and sticking it into his hand causing every piece of the breakfast set to scatter around to the ground along with the food on it and she heard him curse as his face contorted with the pain. Violet was terrified with the blood that splurted from his hand and all over the floor but she had to use her advantage. She scurried for the door but he was faster.

_The boy entered his mother's bedroom where she had passed out heavily drunk since last night. His father left them ages ago and he had to take care of Constance now. And it was not easy even for a fifteen year old._

_She opened her heavy lids and her dark eyes same color as his peered at him, "Did you bring mama some breakfast?" , She said groggily, "And aspirin?"_

_The boy nodded and handed her the platter._

His memories were consuming, eating him alive every day.

"YOU BITCH! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT, I MADE YOU BREAKFAST AND THIS IS HOW YOU THANK ME?", Tate yelled at her and his eyes were sending thunderbolts. He clutched her waist forcefully dragging her to the bed, throwing her down. "WHY?!", He yelled into her face.

"I DON'T NEED YOUR BREAKFAST OK, I HATE BREAKFAST! I NEED YOU TO LET ME GO!", Violet yelled back at him.

_"What is that, Tate?", Constance observed the breakfast served, "The toast is burnt, the coffee is cold and the eggs are overcooked, I don't need your breakfast!", She yelled at the boy throwing the platter on the ground, '"Come here!"_

_"No!''_

_"Tate!'"_

_But he didn't move. His mother blew a fist on his face causing him to hit the floor. __He started crying, the blood gushing from his nose filled his mouth._

_The boy tried to get up but she hit him once again and once more causing a fucking bloody fountain out of his nostrils._

_The boy had experienced that. Many times before. Ever since he was ten._

_So the same night when she passed out again, he took the kitchen knife and punctured his mom in the chest multiple times, until the blood started gushing from her mouth and she was dead. The boy packed up his __baggage left the house and his home town and never turned back._

"I'm sorry, " Violet cried at the sight of so much blood, "Tate I didn't mean that to turn out so badly, I just, I'm scared, please let me go!", She whimpered staring into his crazed eyes.

That made Tate snap out of his memories. He slowly let go of her wrists, which he had gripped holding her hands pinned above her head as he pressed her into the mattress of the bed.

Violet moved away from him and slid down into the corner of the room sobbing holding her knees pressed to her chest.

That made his heart tore apart. He didn't mean to make her that scared of him.

Tate disappeared into the bathroom and a few moments later she saw him returning with a towel wrapped around his bleeding hand.

"I'm really sorry, I.. reminisced of my mom, she used to say that she hated my breakfast and then hit my face until she sent me into coma,I'm sorry."

Violet was sick of his apologies, sick of herself, of everything. She needed to make this stop but she didn't know how. Her brain started failing her and she just didn't want to think, not anymore.

Tate crouched down to where she had curled into a ball and embraced her frame planting small kissed on her brow and in her hair. He didn't know why he did that, but that was his first instinct.

She continued crying and he hated himself for being the cause of it.

He picked Violet up and carried her to the bed while she didn't even look at him.

He laid her gently and kissed her nose, but she just stared at the ceiling and didn't even seem to breathe.

"Please, forgive me," He pleaded, I didn't mean to upset you. I know you hate being trapped here. I would hate that, too. I just wanted to spent some time with you, that's all I ever wanted".

Tate really needed to explain and wanted for her to listen to him but maybe that was impossible right now.

"Are you OK, please answer me?", He continued kissing her nose, her cheeks and her brow. He really wished to compensate for all of this. But he just couldn't let her go. Not yet, not until she understands that he had a better side.

* * *

><p><em>- 4 -<em>

**9:20 a.m.**

"Leave me alone," Violet whispered her head tilted to the side, because she was sick with the sight of him, nevertheless she didn't move under Tate's pressing weight on top of her.

He blinked hard for a few moments to see her face clearer because she had out-focused. He hoisted up his torso removing his limbs from hers, retrieving to an endurable distance with chagrin-ridden expression. Tate looked upon Violet .

The trousers of her pajamas loosened, the waistband slowly drawn down to where her hip bones were showing , the top of it curled up resulting from their fervent wrangling.

Tate left her bedroom and closed the door behind and locked it.

He went through to Violet's simply furnished venge-colored kitchen and poured himself a glass of water, popping a regular pill from his pocket bottle of Zyprexa, swallowing it down with the water. He pressed his hips into the kitchen sink cabinet holding his head into his hands, covering his ears to muffle the echoes from his life recollecting under his eyelids

* * *

><p><em>Tate Langdon, age of 12.<em>

_A sensitive boy. Too much emotional problems already._

_His father Hugo left their drunken wreck of a mother Constance a few years ago, because she was sucking off the neighbor, Larry, around the clock. And sometimes that happened before the boy's eyes, who couldn't help but see his mom down on her knee pads or bent over against Larry's dick through the ajar door._

_Constance misguided parenting and battering assaults over Tate caused him some issues that needed some serious treatment and therapy later on._

_But the best cure for him was the sound of the knife slashing through her rib-cage when the blade punctured through the bone, the blood gushing out like a fountain was a __somewhat compensation for Constance's extreme nurturing methods._

_Some of them included Constance whipping him and his sister Addy with a cane __when she felt necessary,__ until their skins shed blood and felt like being ripped of their bodies with the pain. One day his sister who had Down, fell on the floor hitting her head so hard into unconsciousness, she never woke up._

_They buried her the next day with no ceremonies, his mother never signed the autopsy papers saying Addie just ran in front of a speeding car._

_Tate was hoping Constance would turned out for the better after that, she looked pretty rattled after her daughter died from her own hand._

_But no._

_Things in their little wicked family had turned out for the worse after that._

_His mother became more cruel, heartless and insanely selfish. Being sober wasn't Constance's disposition either._

_Constance began constantly harassing him, calling him names, blaming him for Hugo, for her being drunk all the time, for Addie, for everything._

_One morning, just after Tate had turned thirteen, he overslept and forgot to make her breakfast._

_Constance's beating was so severe he peed his pants. She said she was not going to clean his messy clothes and made him go to school with his soaked pants. Causing other kids bullism and aggression to break loose upon him that day to complete his hell._

_But vengeance came for him and Addie when he killed her and buried her corpse into the backyard. Tate wasn't realizing then that Constance had turned him into something worse than herself. He was just happy he was finally leaving the hell hole he had lived in and wouldn't care less if the place he left behind turned to ashes._

* * *

><p>Tate Langdon, age 22.<p>

Been to hell and back, lived through many things and yet experienced good share of nothing. No happiness, no love, nor satisfaction. None of the sort or even close to it.

He took photography classes but it wasn't his purpose. In order to support himself he took on random jobs on a revolving carousel but nothing could keep his interest, nor his pockets full.

Until Tate found his way into NYC fashion agency's atelier. The money was too good to be true and there wasn't too much pressure involved, all he had to do is take pictures of models and make magazines' covers. Not a problem for him, he had the eye and the sleight of hands for it.

He collected the girls glances and advances but never returned none. He just wasn't interested. Tate had to put up with them every day and decline politely.

Obviously, to compensate his wrecked mind, God spared nothing on his physique.

Not that Tate wasn't sexual. He was. And masturbation was hell of a vent, but he never really liked a girl too much to stick around for her.

They just couldn't compare to her. Violet. The girl he met in college and got obsessed with. Ironically, she was the only one who seemed zero interested in his looks and into catching up onto his advances. Too bad for him, because he wanted her bad.

One afternoon, Tate was taking shots for a nude cover. The girl was not more than into her twenties, super frivolous and obviously addicted to sniffing lines if her dilated pupils were a sign. She stared at him intensely as he was taking shot after shot, turning the lens with his handy fingers.

One more picture and the piece of cloth covering her breasts fell before his eyes discovering her naked torso.

Tate rolled his eyes in exasperation. It happened way too often to him.

They were always trying to seduce the mysterious looking blonde, dark-eyed Kurt Cobain pin-up photographer.

"Would you please cover yourself?", He asked politely.

The girl shook her red-head and approached him naked. "Want some of this stuff?", She asked handing him a rolled dollar bill and a cocaine filled silver box.

_Oh, why the fuck not?_

Tate scooped a line of coke she prepared for him and sniffed hard into his nostril with the rolled dollar bill and it hit straight into his brain. The girl smirked and her face became a blur with the effect of coke taking over. She took his prolonged fingers with her hand, tracing the silver ring around his thumb.

"Come on Tate, you're allowed to have fun every once in a while, aren't you?", She purred and knelt before him licking the zipper of his jeans along the outlines of his cock. Her eyes, insanely huge dilated with the coke looked up in a pleading manner. That kind of hazel browns always recollected Violet to Tate's mind, it was like the biggest trigger there was.

Tate felt his cock twitch and grow bigger inside the jeans.

"Oh, yes we have a winner," The naked girl murmured opening the zipper grabbing hold of his dick with her cold fingers through the entrance of his jeans. She leaned her head in, sticking her tongue out engulfing his length. He felt her mouth closing around his hardness and her head bobbed up and down whilst he couldn't help but imagine that the girl who was choking on his cock right this moment was no other but Violet.

And that sent him sky-high, as he was cocaine accelerated already. Tate pressed the front of his thighs into her as he was thrusting back and forth.

The red lips, the huge hazel orbs, that hair, her soft hair... He buried his fingers into Violet's hair, whilst she was sucking him off. Or at least what he imagined doing.

Soon enough he felt his release on the anonymous girl's chin.

She licked the hot drops off, obviously pleased with her craft work. If only she knew that for Tate she wasn't even in the room, because he was fucking Violet the entire time.

He knew what his therapist would diagnose him with if Tate told him about this,

_Tate Langdon, pants down pressed against the atelier's wall, nostrils stuffed with coke, diagnosis severely sexually frustrated, among other things, with a girl invading his dreams wearing her beautiful name proudly, Violet Harmon._

* * *

><p><em>- 5 -<br>_

**_5.00 p.m._**

Tate unlocked Violet's bedroom and entered resigned on forcing her to eat his dinner this time. It has been two days since Violet hadn't eaten anything and he was worried.

Violet was nowhere to be seen and he felt anxiety took over until he heard the shower water running into the adjacent bathroom.

But of course, it was about time, she definitely needed shower. Where else could she be.

Tate sat on her bed decided to wait until Violet showered.

He opened a drawer right next to her bed, curiously stuffing his head inside.

Laced bra, a thong, a metallic black mini short panties, white laced up panty, lace thong with back ruffles and bows... WHAT?

His mouth went from super dry to super watered while snooping around her scented underwear.

Violet was a seductress in disguise underneath her placid façade of a fair-haired innocent doe-eyed girl.

Well, Tate had thought about it. A lot. He wondered what her undergarments would look like.

But Tate never expected reality to be better than any of his dreams.

He squeezed the pink lace back ruffles thong within his fist and stuck it into his jeans pocket decided to have more fun with it later maybe.

But his brain was stuck on one thing. Violet naked a door away. Tate found himself in front of the bathroom poking his blond shaggy head through the door.

The sight made his breath stuck inside his throat.

With no shower curtain, he could see Violet's back, slick and wet, and her soft ass cheeks splashed with water and shower gel foam. She was facing the tiled wall. But why didn't she lock herself while showering?

Unless she wanted him to come in and f-

That thought, no matter true or not, aroused him more than anything, so he backed up on the bathroom wall, unzipped his jeans, took himself out and started to rub along the growing length.

He groaned and moaned imagining how the delicate fabric that was now stuck into his pocket fit the curves of her booty and he felt sting of jealousy about it. This thong has been many times where he desperately wanted to place himself.

In between Violet's legs.

The result of that revelation came right after, hot and wet onto his palm, Tate released with a yelp.

His ragged breathing echoed throughout the bathroom whilst he enjoyed the aftershocks of his orgasm being fueled with the sight of Violet's lathered-up smooth body.

* * *

><p>Violet snapped her head into his direction and covered her private parts with her arms, horrified finally aware of his presence. Her eyes fell on his flushed face then down to his unsteadily heaving chest, the unbuttoned shirt, his open fly and down to his big dick still out in the open. Her vision lingered down on his crotch for a second, and he registered her eyes widening before her lips formed a silent "Oh," and she froze.<p>

Violet's cheeks blushing crimson brought him more satisfaction than any sexual act he had experienced ever before.

Tate zipped his jeans up hearing the water from the shower stop.

"Tate.. I..needed a shower..and I..", Violet stammered the words the breath hitching inside her throat, once she has assessed the situation.

"Let me help you to that towel," Tate took the towel from the floor and approached.

"No, please, don't.. Don't look at me!", Violet retrieved more to the farthest end of the bathroom desperately trying to cover up her body.

"It's too late for that, come on I won't bite," Tate smirked not taking grasp of the warning signs.

"No, please don't look at me.., She mumbled with her eyes down to the floor she was still turned with his back to him.

"But why not, besides you saw me naked, too!", Tate 's shaded lustful eyes still roaming onto her pale skin.

"Because I'm ugly," He thought he heard Violet say something but it was above a whisper.

"What?"

"I'm ugly, Tate.", She said with a flat expression.

As if someone grabbed him by the hair, Tate snapped his head upwards and his eyes detached from her body to stroll back onto her face.

He was clearly insane.

But she must be out of her mind, too.

"What are you saying,Vi, you're so pretty your face is perf-"

Violet shook her head and he saw the tears slipped under her eyelids, "It's not my face."

Tate removed her arms wrapped around her frame, and felt the blood rush to his head,"Who did this to you?"

"Tate.."

_**"Who. Did. This? **_Tell me now, because they are already dead, I swear!", He fumed at the sight of her dainty body being encarved with red weals.

Raw razor -blade cuts and cigarette burns. All over her milky thighs and forearms.

"It was just some kids back in my school days," She whimpered, "They used to bully me after classes were over, killing cigarette butts into my flesh, they said I was odd and that no girl into her right mind should listen to Nirvana.

They really enjoyed seeing me squirming in pain, causing the asthma attacks on me...And those cuts," Violet traced the red lines along her arm with her fingers, " I inflicted them, to deal with all of this among other things, too."

Their eyes were now fixated on each other.

Tate's angry dark ones into Violet's sad, light-brown orbs.

"Why didn't you do something? Did you tell somebody?", Tate asked her out of breath on the verge on his madness.

He was surprised to hear her laugh, although it wasn't a happy sound.

"Oh, I did, I sneaked upon each one of those girls separately and broke most of the bones in their body, I know how to use my limbs with a force in order to protect myself when needed," Violet choked upon her grave laughter.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Tate looked down at his bandaged right hand.

"I'm sorry about your hand, "She said timidly and they both got lost into each others eyes again.

"They expelled me from school right after, my mom and dad had to use all of their influence for me not to be send to juvenile court."

"God, Violet, I'm sorry. I wish I knew you then, I wouldn't let anybody or anything hurt you," Tate declared.

She just shook her head. Why was she telling him all of this?

Before she knew it, Tate was down on his knee caps leaning in and tracing the scars along with his warm lips, giving special attention to those upon her smooth, milky thighs.

"Tate..", She gasped holding for balance onto his hair since her body went limp.

She never knew that warm feeling that spread now inside her loins.

Alex, the guy who took her virginity, has never looked at her that way. In fact he looked everywhere, but her, as he came.

Violet was sure that he was repulsed with her scars and himself after. That was another reason for her not to return to his studio.

"Mmm, you're beautiful, Violet, and your scars taste so good," Tate's rasp voice snapped her back into reality. And he continued planting small kisses all over her torn flesh.

He wasn't kissing, he was worshiping. It felt insanely good she closed her eyes and bit her lower lip.

"Come on, you made me really hungry," She heard him growl and opened her eyes.

"What?"

"Into the kitchen, Violet."

* * *

><p>Violet wrapped her towel around frame defensively holding it to her chest with both of her hands, shaking with unknown sensations.<p>

Tate's dark-olive eyes were feverish when he approached and took her by the hand, "Come on, Vi, you need to eat!"

"Tate ..I'm not really hungry," Violet mumbled too scared to look at him although she wasn't sure if that was true or it was just fear that made her stomach churned with both fear and desire.

"Well, you should be!Besides, I make some real good mac and cheese!", Tate insisted dragging her towards the kitchen where the mac and cheese laid served on the table.

Violet felt a wave of sickness overwhelming her and dug her heels into the floor, "NO!", She shook her head.

"But you need to eat, you're pretty, but you're already skin and bones ," Tate counter punched and sat in front of the served meal hauling Violet down onto his lap.

"Now we're comfy, right? Let's eat! Oh, no, no, leave that to me, no more forks for you!," Tate chanted as he saw her eyes searching for the fork. He smiled at her, handling a fork of mac and cheese into his mouth, then offering some to her,"Your turn, open", He ordered in her ear.

She really thought she wouldn't be able to eat but it smelled delicious and she found herself devouring every morsel he fed her greedily.

Tate seemed to lose interest in the food soon enough since he was now feeding on her magnolia textured skin under her earlobe.

"You taste like peaches," He informed her nuzzling her cheek from behind.

Violet moved uneasy onto his lap, flailing her head to avoid the advances of his lips, "Please, stop it! That really feels awkward.", She whimpered.

"Really? It does?"

Tate queried and shoved two of his fingers with no hesitation under the towel and into her core. Then his fingers emerged with a squelching sound, all soaked and Violet squeaked. He couldn't help but taste her essence on his hand.

"Fuck, Violet, you're creaming..so much...you're dripping down my leg, I feel it through my jeans. I think you like me." He breathed out into her ear and his hair tickled her cheek as he leaned in, saying that.

Tate's mind felt ecstatic with such a possibility. Or was it playing tricks on him again?

And then he heard it, although it took him some actual time to process the words that caused implosion in his erratic brain.

"Yes, I did. I always have."

* * *

><p><em>- 6-<em>

Tate wasn't prepared for her kiss, it was sweet and warm coaxing him to lose himself.

He wanted it, he was hoping for it, but he couldn't believe it was actually happening.

At first when she turned around straddling his lap, facing him and she raised her hands to grab his head pressing her lips on his, he felt so elated by her touch only.

When her mouth was on his lips and her body against his, his brain shut off.

Violet Harmon, the girl who was invading his dreams for the past two years, was pressing into him on a kitchen chair slipping her tongue inside his mouth with sweet assaults.

Tate felt greedy beyond imaginable. He took grip of her thighs and sprawled her on her back on the table causing all dishes to fall off and break into the ground,mac and cheese dinner coloring the carpet.

Her towel slipped and now Violet was fully naked underneath him. She was pale as ivory and weak as a kitten. Tate groaned at the sight of her.

He took full advantage of her sudden compliance and pressed himself into her core as his hardness settled so naturally in between the apex of her thighs.

His tongue found its way into kissing her deeply and she was so sweet. Her mouth savored like his favorite vodka cola cocktail and just as intoxicating. Her fingers got entangled into his hair and she moaned. He wanted more of her moans, they vibrated deliciously against his feverish lips.

He let her mouth and traced her jaw line and her neck along with warm kisses, she trembled pulling him closer.

His lips were getting lower and he traced the raw scars and burns along her skin with his mouth until he reached her center.

"Tate..", He heard her whimpering and she was trying to get him off her but it was too late for that now.

Tate's mouth was on her pulsating center testing the milk flowing from there.

"NO!", She gasped for air.

Violet closed her legs trying to push his head away but Tate gripped her arms and held them above her head as his tongue worked her so slick, whilst he fell into some state beyond the ecstatic. He wanted to touch and consume more. And more.

Two fingers were inside her now and she was squirming in frustration, but he just couldn't stop himself. He pumped his digits in and out, deeper and harder until he felt her muscles tighten around them and she let out a scream which he muffled with his free hand.

Finally, Tate felt her body relax underneath him and snapped back to reality.

Violet was still breathing heavily staring at him, "Tate, you stopped, aren't you going to...?"

Her voice cracked, she didn't look hurt, just sad.

Tate slowly let go of her arm and noticed he had left bruises there from gripping her with so much force.

He gasped deeply, "No, I told you, I'm not going to fuck you. I want so much more than that. I'm sorry. I guess you should go dress up now."

He handed her the towel and Violet disappeared into her bedroom with tears rimming her lashes.

Tate let the air escape his heavy lungs and pulled out the vial out of his pocket to pop another pill.

He ran his fingers through his messed up her but then it flashed through his dazed brain.

He followed Violet into her bedroom.

She was still naked putting one leg into her panties on. When she saw him enter she halted her movements and stared at him with a look on her face he could hardly decipher.

_Angst?_

* * *

><p>Tate's eyes lingered all over her naked chest, down to her scars, up to her swollen lips and then back to her now deeply-dark brown eyes.<p>

"Wait! You said you have always liked me, but you practically cut me off every time I got closer", He asked taking a few steps over to her.

She wrapped around the towel around her naked frame, still shaking.

"I liked you..secretly," Violet whispered with her eyes glued to the floor.

Tate gasped again, holding her chin up to look at her, "Would you please, explain this, I don't quite follow you."

She just shook her head, closing her eyes still afraid of eye contact.

"I just, I don't know, Tate. You looked like the kind of boy who would never go out with a girl like me.."

"But I asked you.."

"I know, but I have never been on a date. And my body is not the most attractive thing, too. I was afraid you would be repulsed by me eventually," Violet finished and finally opened her teary-eyes to look at him.

"Never been on a date?"

Was she playing with him?, "Violet, you do realize that I just found out you're not actually a virgin."

"Exactly. Nobody has ever asked me out. And I lost my virginity to a total stranger who wouldn't even look at my body, that's how repulsive I was to him.

I guess he just used me for sex. But it was fair enough, I used him, too. I was so tired of feeling the awkward eighteen year old virgin."

"You feared I was going to reject you?", Tate was dumbfounded. He was the one who has always feared rejection, "That is not possible, you're just too beautiful. You're all I want."

Tate ran a thumb along her lower lip and it gave her goosebumps. That and his black eyes that bored into her,

"You know the meaning of the Belladonna's plant name, Violet?"

"No," She managed to mumble.

"It means 'beautiful woman' in Italian."

They just stared at each other a few moments more during which none of them spoke.

* * *

><p>"Why did you reject me just now?", Violet broke the silence first.<p>

"I told you, I don't want to fuck you like some random whore, why won't you understand that? It was never my intention to hurt you, I just want you too much.

And I love your scars. Looks like we both have them, but mine are on the inside, " He smiled.

"What do you mean?", She asked with a perplexed look.

Tate opened his mouth but now was not the time to dawn upon her the fact that he has killed his own mother.

Instead he leaned in and gave her a long, soft kiss and he was happy to find she didn't pull back but just the opposite. She placed her tiny hands around his neck and kissed him back.

It took them some time, but it worked. They were slowly finding their way to each other.

"I'm sorry I rushed you, " Tate murmured against her mouth when their lips parted,"Are you scared of me? You shouldn't be. I would never hurt you," Tate repeated.

Violet shook her head negatively, she wasn't really sure that it was him who was scaring her. She was more likely scared of her attraction towards him.

Ans she was still having that. The heart palpitation and the sweaty palms like the first time she saw him and he smiled at her.

The gorgeous boy she thought she could never have because her body was mutilated and she wasn't pretty enough.

Even now when she knew he wasn't right in the head and he had trapped her here where she felt like Belle stuck in a castle with the beast, she wanted that.

Violet wanted him, too.

"Violet..", His nose nudged her cheek.

"Tate..", Her brow pressed on his.

They stood against each other like that until their breathing became sound and steady.

Tate pulled away first, " You need to get some sleep, I'll leave you now, I think we shall talk more tomorrow."

She nodded silently.

* * *

><p><em> - 7 -<em>

During the night as Violet woke up, Tate's words had messed her head causing a throbbing pain and dryness inside her mouth.

He was sick, but who was she to judge. She has spent her whole life in complete oblivion to so many things.

And whoever said what was right and what was wrong needed a reality check, because from what she knew, normal people had hurt more than the psychopath that snatched her from that normality and was now sleeping into her living room.

In fact normal people scared her. The cigarette burns and the scars all over her body was the living proof she had many reasons to be scared.

Violet sighed and placed her feet on the carpet and slowly walked over to the door wondering if she should ask him for some water or not.

To her surprise she found the door unlocked when she placed her hand on the door knob.

Violet walked down the hall and into the kitchen and poured herself a glass.

She took a few thirsty sips, then something caught her sleepy, tired eyes.

A black book laid plain open on the kitchen table.

She withdrew it curiously and her eyes started bouncing off the ragged handwriting.

Him, his sister, his mother, she found her own name there, too ,written some many times over and he described her in so many beautiful ways.

Page after page his life sprung in front of her eyes and Violet placed a palm over her trembling lips.

Tate's handwriting.

His diary.

Bruised. Abused. Humiliated.

Tears started rolling down her cheeks as she sobbed uncontrollably.

She wanted to hug him and tell him everything was going to be OK.

_Stockholm syndrome, was it what this was? Really?_

_Who gave a shit anyways, and how could you put a lid on feelings?_

Her brain was literally exploding and she wanted to tell him so many things.

She rushed inside the living room, but she didn't find him there. She checked the bathroom, her room and then again the kitchen.

No one.

Then her eyes fell on the small note that she didn't notice in the first place when she was in the kitchen. It was there,on the table, right next to Tate's diary.

_"So now you know everything about me. But it's only fair, I know everything about you, too._

_I know you think I'm sick and you have a point. I'm a killer, a kidnapper, and god knows what else,_

_since I haven't been in therapy for two months. However, two things are true and they will always be_

_- that I never meant to hurt you, and that I love you. Violet, you deserve to be free and happy._

_And I should pay for what I've done. I'm turning myself in to the police."_

Violet dropped the glass and pieces shattered when it broke on the floor was the only sound echoing through the silence of her empty apartment.

* * *

><p><em>And then in the strange way things happen<em>

_The roles were reversed from that day_

_The hunted became the huntress_

_The hunter became the prey._

Three words stuck in her head as Violet picked up the pieces of shattered glass.

_**I hate him, **she thought s_tepping on one of the pieces which caused her a severe pain and she gasped. A bleeding wound spread open on her foot.

But then again, she wasn't really sure if she hated him for kidnapping her or for leaving her after.

Her eyes welled up with that realization. Bad emotions caused nausea inside her. Just like school did. Or anything else unpleasant.

And nausea triggered the asthma attacks.

She started breathing heavily and searched through for her inhaler. She finally found it under her pillow in her bedroom

_How very considerate of him!_

She breathed in a couple jets of Ventolin but being helpless was not exactly the best feeling in the world and it took her a few minutes until she actually calmed down after she felt her lungs sprung free in the first place.

Violet knew she was heading straight for the police department.

Again,not sure if she was going to because she wanted to prevent Tate from turning himself in or reporting him for the crime he had committed. But she had to go to the cops anyways. Maybe she was hoping too much to catch up with Tate somewhere along the way and her heart pounded faster and stronger with recognition of some feelings flourishing for that dark-eyed, black- hearted boy.

_Stop it, Violet! Life is not the movies, this is not a Romeo and Juliet kind of love._

Tate was sick. And she was already too bruised to have him, although she knew she always have liked him. Also, Violet wasn't sure where this attraction was rooting from. She was still holding Tate's note and his journal and after couple of moments of hesitation she shoved both under the mattress of her bed.

Violet sighed and went up to her dresser, eagerly searching the rack to finally pull out a knitted brown sweater and a pair of faded casual jeans, throwing them on the bed.

She was halfway into hiding evidence and turning into a criminal offender but deep down in her she justified herself with the thought that Tate didn't deserve abuse and had to kill Constance, especially after what she did to Addie. He didn't deserve to spend the rest of his life behind bars for defending his own life.

After she dressed up she walked out of the apartment and made her way down along 34th Street to the subway stop.

Violet hated the subway, especially at night and it was really dark at this hour, but since she haven't bought a car yet she didn't really have any other option. And driving through the streets of New York or catching taxi was craziness anyways, it took ages to get from one spot to another. The stop was quiet and nobody was seen around when she bought the ticket and stood waiting for the R40 subway car. Violet looked nervously at the clock digits hanging above her head - it read twenty-three hundred hours. Being alone in the borough at that time of the night itself caused her stomach stir uneasily, she wasn't used to go out late at night in Midtown Manhattan, not even for clubbing.

She closed her eyes, swallowing the nausea that rose again up her throat. She let the air escape her burning lungs. After opening her eyes, she heard what sounded like two men slurring profanities and quarrel with each other,

"What the fuck man... slut was hot! Shouldn't have let her get away that easily!"

"Shut up, Nate! She was an underage girl! Be happy that she gave you a blowjob after you forced her do it and she didn't even scream after you came all over her. Now it's my turn to get me some. I'm horny, it's the coke man", The voice sounded rotten and her little body sank into the sweater, as she braced her shoulders. The nerves had kicked in already. The subway car haven't showed up yet, and she started stamping her feet praying for the car or another living soul to show up.

She bit her lower lip and looked into the dark tunnel but still no car showed up. Just then the two figures emerged from around the corner.

"Oh, look at that! What do we have here, a real peach!," One of the guys exclaimed and she shuddered feeling the fear and the lack of air suppressing her chest.

They were stoned beyond imaginable, their pupils so dilated that Violet could hardly see the color of their eyes. Both had dark hair, that was falling over their ears and one of them who was now approaching her, had piercing on his bottom lip.

"Care for some fun, honey?", He asked her, grinning obscenely rubbing his bulge at the front. She felt sick and closed her eyes again trying to breathe.

Just when Violet felt him tugging on her sweater, she opened her eyes and forced herself to knee him as hard as she could in the loins.

The man yelped in pain, his face turned into distorted grimace.

Violet started screaming.

The other guy placed his palm over her mouth pulling out a pocket knife sliding it down to her throat as he wrenched her arms behind her back, holding Violet against his chest.

"Close your mouth and don't move little Miss Sunshine", He warned dragging her along to some dark spot in the subway tunnel, "You don't wanna hurt my friend again or else I slit your pretty neck. Now, all we want is for you to spread your legs and let us do the rest, you might actually enjoy it. In fact my friend has some really big dick," He grinned and she felt sick again smelling his breath, ridden with liquor and cigarettes.

"No, don't touch me..", She squirmed but to no use.

The guy with the piercing had recollected himself and had already pushed her jeans down to her knees and was ripping off her underwear, "Oh, a feisty and a pretty one, I like that," He smirked shoving two fingers inside of her as the other was holding her.

Violet was thrashing in every direction possible.

"Just relax," She heard her abuser hum and a tear rolled down her cheek.

_" Let. Her. Go.", _She heard his voice.

_Tate?_

* * *

><p><em>- 8 -<em>

His eyes were a dead menace.

Tate hated violence. He had learned how to survive and protect himself, violence had become a necessary part of his life but that didn't mean he liked it too much.

He especially hated violence against women since his sister, and Violet. He had regretted every single time he made Violet feel scared. He honestly felt he had a lot to redeem in her eyes.

Her mouth hung open, while the men didn't seem to faze at all.

"Oh, yeah?", The pierced-lip laughed, cocking a brow, "And what are you going to do if we don't let her, Ca -sa- no-va?"

That made them both terribly amused and their laugh was sickening.

"I give you ten seconds," The blond boy in front of him gravely informed, "One..."

That made the pierced lip go mad. The cocaine had kicked into his blood stream and he was trying to get it on with some hot cunt, but the entire night obstacles kept springing in the way of his dick getting drained.

"Two, three..", Tate continued.

He made a step toward Tate, the other one still holding Violet.

"Four, five..."

The guy, holding the pocket knife against Violet's throat made a small cut under her ear, giggling, " Who's that? Your boyfriend?", He asked Violet, " We're going to chop him to pieces and then we are chopping you, too".

The opening on her neck started dripping blood. Violet whined.

Tate's jaw clenched.

"Six, seven, eight.."

But then the pierced guy lunged at him blowing a fist on his face and splitting Tate's lip.

Tate first clasped at the despised fingers, that were inside of Violet and twisted them until she heard the finger-bones crackle. Then he thumped back at the man's face, crushing his jaw and he fell on the ground with a thud, howling from the pain.

Tate crouched down to the man with the pierced lip.

"You piece of trash!", He clamped the guy's head with his hands, swinging and crashing his skull into the cement flooring, blood gushing everywhere.

Then Tate lunged at the man with the knife who sliced his cheek with the blade, trying to protect himself.

Tate knocked him down, too, after the man blew his fist on his face almost breaking his nose.

_There are lots of predators lurking around but Tate is the scariest of them all, Violet thought._

* * *

><p>Violet, who had forgotten about the second man holding her, thought she had never seen anybody more intimidating than Tate her entire life.<p>

"Come on, Violet!", She felt him pulling up the zipper of her jeans, "We're going to the police, is that what you want?", He glared at her and she was pulled out of her daze.

"No, Tate, no!" She was now more indecisive on the police thing than ever, "Please, don't.. Just.. take me home, OK?"

Tate was surprised but he agreed. For the first time Violet was begging him to do something, her big brown eyes pleading, and it was hard not to comply. His stomach made a flop to even think of why she wanted this.

But it also made him turn his decision into reverse.

* * *

><p>Back at her apartment they didn't even speak.<p>

Violet took out a first aid kid and disinfected her cuts. Then tried to clean his while he was just sitting silently at the edge of the bathtub.

His face was stained with blood and he had a fat lip, also a bruise along the side of his left cheekbone.

Violet slowly started cleansing his wounds and cuts, wiping the blood from his face and his nose.

"This... kind of ...reminds me...of me and Addie, you know", He spoke softly, "When Constance beat her sometimes, Addie needed help recovering and I cleaned her wounds for her, and bandaged her , and she sometimes did the same for me...before she died, of course. After that I had to handle it on my own", Tate spoke as Violet fingers was working over his face.

His face, it was pale, so contrasting with his dark eyes right now.

Violet felt something overwhelming boiling up inside of her, and she didn't even know why, but she felt the tears streaming down her cheeks. She felt herself falling for that same old Beauty and the Beast cliché, and she was falling hard.

So Violet simply leaned in and kissed him.

First her lips touched Tate's brow, then his cheeks, then she brushed her lips against Tate's lips and he gasped. Her arms gently wrapping around his neck and held him against her.

* * *

><p><em>Was it finally happening?, <em>Tate thought as he felt her warmth._ Could she possibly love him the way he was? Because he loved her, and too much, for all the reasons he couldn't bring himself to understand._

Her soft lips sent pleasure all over his body and he pressed into her more, grabbing the small of her back.

His lip hurt badly but he wasn't going to give up her kisses regardless. It was all he had ever hoped for.

Her body wrapped around him, sitting on his lap, straddling him. Tate's tongue invaded fast Violet's mouth and she let out a small moan.

She had no idea how badly he wanted to taste her until his tongue invaded again this time more aggressively, his mouth sucking hers in. Then tip of his tongue tickled the edge of her earlobe, when he started kissing her neck and she tugged on his blond curls.

His lips continued to hurt but it was sweet all the same mixing pain with pleasure, so much like his life. He was satisfied to hear his name roll with a wanton off Violet's tongue, "Tate".

The caressing feel of his tongue dancing on her clavicle brought Violet to new levels of excitement and she made a futile attempt to reach in between his legs. But Tate caught her hand just in time, and brought it to his mouth, kissing it.

"Come on", He whispered raising up from the bath tub placing her down.

"But I want to...", She breathed out confused.

"Me too," Tate smiled leading her into her bedroom.

They both undressed and threw their clothes to the floor, admiring each others pale bodies only with their eyes.

Then Violet laid down and pulled the sheet up over her body and scooted over, making room for him to lay down next to her. Almost immediately, Tate noticed her nipples poking through the sheer material. He tugged on one, and then the other. He moved his mouth closer to hers, and just when she thought he was going to kiss her,Tate moved down to her nipples.

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming out in pleasure as he relentlessly nibbled on her peaks.

The wetness of his tongue soaked through the material as he grazed each one while looking into her eyes, licking and sucking on her breasts. She moaned loudly when he began doing the same to her neck. Within minutes she ached for his mouth to press against hers, but he refused. He lifted himself sideways over her and placed his hands on each side of her body, being careful not to touch her. She wrapped a leg around his waist, and with the heel of her foot pressed his body against hers. His tongue found its way back to hers which only fed his hunger.

Tate tore his mouth away pushing her lower torso up, his head went down on her. They caught each others eyes for only a split second before she grabbed the back of his head and slammed his face into her core.

At first, Tate tried her pinky flesh just a little but she was too sweet down there to give her up easily.

Violet wriggled about as he licked over and over her soaked folds and her swollen nub, she breathed heavily and Tate grinned. She was too ready for him . Just when he felt her getting too close he snatched his mouth away replacing it with his hard cock. He plunged inside her slowly but firmly, causing them both to gasp heavily.

Violet's nails dug deeply into his back, marring his flesh when he started rocking his hips, thrusting in and out of her.

"Oh, God," His head sank into the crook of her neck and she quivered underneath. So tight, her walls tightened even more around his dick as Tate rewarded her womb with the most intensified orgasm, that Violet had ever experienced. And the only sound she could make now was his name," TATE!"

He kissed her lips to muffle her and rode his own orgasm viciously pounding into her, until he collapsed on top, their bodies finally relaxed, related and released.

"God, I love you!", He whispered panting as Violet snuggled into him.

"I love you, too, Tate," He was surprised to hear that, nevertheless his heart fluttered like there were wings of butterflies inside.

It was true. Violet loved most things about him. His hard life and especially his protective side. Tate was right into forcing her spending more time with him. They were perfect for each other. She felt protected and loved like never before.

It was crazy. They both were.

* * *

><p><em>- 9 -<em>

Just around midnight, there was a rapid knock on her apartment door and Violet was first to wake up.

"Violet Harmon, open up! New York police department!"

"What the fuck, Violet you called the police?", Tate snarled sitting up in bed, but she shook her head vigorously, "No Tate, I swear I haven't!"

"And I know I haven't, so what's this shit about... Think you should open the door?"

They both glared at each other in the dark.

* * *

><p>"Violet, you called the police, didn't you? It was you," Tate narrowed his eyes at her, when he detected Violet's nervousness.<p>

The repeated knocking on the door rattling his brain and his ears until it hurt.

She nodded, before answering, "Yes, and I'm sorry, Tate. I'm so, so sorry!"

He was too smart, she always knew that.

* * *

><p>"Oh, shit," Tate gasped sitting up in bed his head in his hands, his fingers tugging at his hair, " Well, I should thank you for it, after all I have to pay for what I've done!", Tate attempted standing up but her tiny hands gripped his bare shoulders, " No, you don't."<p>

He snapped his head, looking at her, Violet was glaring at him.

Repentance was written all over her face.

"What? What are you saying? They are already here!", He turned his head towards the door.

"Tate, I called them because I was afraid that you would change your mind, that you would come back and hurt me. But I was wrong! After what you did for me in the subway, I know you wouldn't hurt me for your life! You don't have to die in prison just because you defended yourself against your drunken mother!" Violet whispered into his neck, embracing him from behind and he felt so accelerated.

He knew that Violet was different from the moment he saw her, just didn't expect her to be that special.

"What are you suggesting?", Tate leaned into her and Violet kissed his cheek and it felt so good.

"Kill them, Tate!", Violet breathed out into his ear.

_Special._

"I'm so tired of hurting people.", Tate turned around to look at her.

"Just this one last time, so we can runaway together," Violet didn't really know why she said such an awful thing. But the thought of being away from Tate was tearing her.

Tate shook his head and tried to snatch away from Violets's embrace but she pulled him tighter in.

"Violet this is a foolhardy plan. We would never get away with it."

"Please, giving in means we suffered for nothing, I bet you have guns?"

Tate nodded.

Why not? After all, he would've have annihilated the world for her, and he would be okay with that. He kissed her lips, still not used to the new exciting way she reciprocated forcefully latching on his mouth. They both took a second after to catch their breath.

* * *

><p>Tate scurried into the kitchen, where he had left his duffel bag. He took out the shotgun.<p>

He put his clothes on and waited until Violet got dressed and stuffed some of her belongings into a satchel,before they headed for front door of her apartment.

Pushing Violet to step behind his back, Tate opened the door.

The first bullet hit the cop right between the eyes. The second bullet ripped through the heart of his partner.

He didn't even gave them time to scream, let alone to react.

Their blood splattered the white walls of the foyer, both of their bodies stumbled, rolling to the side.

"Back exit?", Tate couldn't risk Violet's life by exiting through the front.

Violet gripped his hand and led him to the end of the staircase, where they found their secret way out of the building.

* * *

><p>When they reached L.A. changing several rented cars, so they couldn't keep track of them, Violet and Tate had already decided what they should do with the certain amount of money they had.<p>

Nobody knew who they were here. They invested in a beautiful L.A. Victorian house. The house seemed to have vivid history with some murders involved and they thought it was proper for them.

Tate and Violet loved spending their days and nights by themselves. They didn't even bother to learn who their neighbors were.

Photography was still their favorite thing.

"Now a bit to the left and look through the window,"Tate commanded and took Violet's picture.

"Like that?", She gave him a crooked smirked, cocking her head to the side.

Violet had borrowed one of his shirts and it hung unbuttoned to the front showing volumes to him.

Tate smirked and approached to give Violet a kiss, cupping her small breasts, "God I can't wait to see you nurturing our kids", He murmured against her lips massaging gently to show what he meant.

Her face dropped.

"Tate, I think you should know... The guy who took my virginity, he..didn't use protection. I had to make an abortion after. The doctor said that there were complications and..", She looked at him teary-eyed, "We may never have kids."

After a few silent moments, Tate leaned in and kissed her softly, "Then we should try harder."

He smiled and studied her big hazel eyes.

Violet dodged his second kiss, "Tate, I'm serious! And what if we do have, and the girl has asthma and struggles just like me, or if it's a boy and he's.."

"...a psycho like me?," He finished instead of her, "Then I shall love our kids to the moon and back."

Tate honestly didn't care. The only thing important was that he and Violet were meant to be together.

_God, he loved her, he loved her, he loved her._

_He was the Beast in love with a Beauty. A love- elated monster._

* * *

><p><em>-10-<em>

**_L.A., Monday 10:00 a.m._**

Smiling down at Violet, Tate took her in his arms and photographed her radiating face, her beaming smile and her placid eyes with his Canon.

But she also got imprinted in his brain by means of his searching black eyes, they could never get enough of her.

"You're so beautiful," He mumbled against her lips after a rampage of smothering kisses.

She traced a thumb along the seam of his lips, "Tate, I lo-"

A single shot tore the air.

"What the fuck!", Tate looked through the window and saw the shooter positioned at the top of their neighbor's house.

So they found them.

* * *

><p><em>- 0 -<em>

With one swift movement, he let go of Violet and reached for the gun he kept under his pillow, aiming it at the man in the camouflage.

Her breath got hitched. Her eyes widened like saucers. A drool of blood escaped Violet's mouth.

"Violet, what?"

But then he saw it- the red light dot of the sniper rifle, aiming for her heart and he heard the second shot.

The bullet stung his arm, and escaped through his shoulder bursting the vessels blooming in bloody wounds.

He looked through the window and saw the SWAT team member aiming for a second shot at his clavicle.

Tate heard the second shot and felt it painfully breaking through his collar-bone, then another tore the tissue on his arm that was holding Violet.

But he didn't care. His only concern was her.

"Vi, please don't you die on me!", He yelled in panic when he saw her dead-eyed gaze and her head tilted to the side.

He placed her slowly over the sofa his white shirt she was clad in now was splatter with her crimson blood.

Tate ran through the front door and into the street,

"Help! Somebody help me! She is dying! Help!"

He screamed at the passers-by but nobody reacted.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? There's a girl inside and she's dying!", Tate shouted at the people.

"They can't hear you, boy!"

Tate couldn't move. He felt numb, a gruesome feeling pulled inside the pit of his stomach.

"Why is that?", He asked as she approached and palmed his cheek.

The woman bore her eyes into his bloodshot, as she spoke,

"Because they are alive. And we are the dead...the SWAT team...they shot you, boy, here in the Murder House... and here you stay...with the rest of us", Then Tate heard someone calling her Nora, and the woman mouthed ruefully "I want my baby" before she turned her back on him slowly dissolving back inside the darkness of what she called ' the Murder House.'


End file.
